


Something About You

by wartransmission



Series: Cold War Transmissions [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:42:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission/pseuds/wartransmission
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don’t bother to correct him anymore that the two of you only got together recently, that you were both separated for more years than you’d like to count, or that you don’t even know if it’s love yet. (Though that last one’s not exactly that hard to answer anymore. You’ve had your fair share of being scared, and you’re over it.)</p><p>“Yeah,” you agree with a side-long glance to Jake. He blinks at you in surprise before smiling, his brows furrowed in a way that tells you how amused and happy he is with this.</p><p>“You’re right.”</p><p>(tl;dr the story of Jake English and Bro Strider based on my one other Dave/John story.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something About You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostlandObservvatory](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=GhostlandObservvatory).



> Sort of rushed through this at one in the morning right after getting shit-faced with family, totally did not think about being realistic the whole way through writing it, SUDDENLY SMUT SOMEWHERE IN THERE, sappiness, lame fight scenes, yadda yadda yadda i suck at doing requests and fics in general aaaaaaaaaaaa
> 
> hope some of you enjoyed it anyway! <3 /sob

“I want you to talk to him.” Dave tells you simply.

Simply, huh? You never thought you’d apply that word to him or anything else revolving around him. “I don’t see why I should,” you say blithely.

“I’ve already forgiven him.”

“And?”                                                                                                                                  

“I think it’s time you did too.”

“Look, little man,” you pat the sword on your side on reflex, “you’ve grown up to be a good kid, and I think I can blame some of that on Egbert Jr. I’m proud of you for that. But that doesn’t mean that I’ll make like Jesus and forgive everyone for their sins against me. You know me.”

“I do,” Dave says in agreement, “and I know that you miss him. I think you owe yourself the chance to forgive him after everything. It’s been years, man. That should be enough anger.”

“Don’t make me look like a fucking sap here, kiddo.”

“Just fucking say it, you asshole.”

“He hurt you.” Your eyes glint orange under the dark tint of your shades. “Do you honestly think I can forget shit like that easily?"

“Yes.” He suddenly slides his sword out of his sheathe and charges forward, though you’re not too slow to not block it with your own sword. “Yes you fucking can, you ass shat.” He grits his teeth as he pushes forward with his sword. You keep pushing back just to spite him, not exactly exerting enough effort.

Until you push him forward and he stumbles back. He quickly regains his composure like you’ve taught him and tenses, sword at the ready as you observe him. He spits out, “Do you think, if he hadn’t done that to me, you’d have come back? Do you honestly fucking think you’d remember your little bro at home if he’d remained safe in the arms of your best friend?”

“…”

You remain silent. He takes it as something deliberate to annoy him and charges once more, though he gets a bit cleverer when he swipes his foot at your stomach. You dodge though you have to flip back, the air rushing out of your lungs and earning Dave another opening. He takes it swiftly when he dashes forward again, only to have his sword clashing with yours again. The clang of metal gripes at your ears but you listen hard to what your kid’s saying anyway, because that’s what a good brother does. Isn’t it?

“You’d never have come back, damn it.” He rasps out, skin flushed with anger. He swings his sword again before jumping back, his feet separated and at the exact angles that you’d always trained him to remember. You swallow a quip when he croaks out, “I know that you had to worry about getting a job, Bro. You were only seventeen and it’s hard when people only see you as a kid. _I know._ ”

If he wasn’t wearing his shades right now, you’d be damn surprised if he wasn’t crying already.  He continues, “But that doesn’t mean that you can just leave me like that. Don’t you know how much that can fuck a kid up?”

“Kid-”

“ _I’m not a fucking kid anymore, you asshole!_ ”

He charges forward and your swords clash before separating and clashing again, never really hitting any skin even as you’ve already moved from the floor to the faux ceiling of the only door on the roof. He takes a swipe at you and you jump back until you’ve hit ground once more and you retaliate with another kick of your foot, at which he jumps upward and effectively disarms you by flinging your sword away with a flick of his armed hand while kicking forward with both feet at your chest until you’ve fallen flat on the floor. He quickly regains his composure and stands before you, his sword automatically placing itself near your neck so you won’t escape.

Shit, you’re getting rusty at this.

“What is this about?” You manage to ask through your wheezing breath.

“I’m happy.” He tells you. You cock a brow, bemused at what that has got to do with anything. “I’m happy, Bro. Finally fucking happy after everything I put myself through. I don’t want to ruin that, and I’m not going to let you ruin it either.”

“What do I have to do with this?”

“You have everything to do with it, you dumbass.” He still doesn’t let you up, and you guess it’s fair after every loss you’ve given him. “You’re my brother. I don’t want you moping around like a dipshit while I’m happy with my boyfriend.”

“I don’t mope like a fucking dipshit, asswipe.”

“Yeah you fucking do. Only thing missing is you actually watching one of John’s lame movies and crying into your popcorn.”

You hold yourself up with your elbows, letting the cool metal of Dave’s sword press into your neck. “Point being?”

“Call Jake and make up with him. He misses your lazy ass."

“He doesn’t.” You turn his sword away with your gloved hand and he lets you do so. “It’s been years, like you’ve said. I haven’t even bothered to contact him over that expanse of time.”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t get what he sees in you either, but he still misses you. I don’t get romance, okay?”

You squint your eyes at him. “What’s your point in doing this, kid?”

“Eight years and you still haven’t gotten a fucking life, Bro. You need something to get you out of this deep shithole you’re in.”

“And you think English is the perfect man for the job.”

“Well, yeah. He was your best bro before everything.” He holds out a hand to you and you take it, letting him pull you up as he sheathes his sword with his other hand. “He’s the only person you’ve ever invited in the house more than once.”

“Look at where that got us.”

“He’s in love with you, you asshole. Love makes people do drastically stupid shit, and you made things worse when you started asking his sister out. You think you didn’t have anything to do with what he did?”

You become silent, feeling that old guilt clawing at your chest again. You never actually meant to hurt Jake like that. You just wanted to let him know that there was never going to be a thing between the two of you because you sucked at shit like relationships, and you didn’t want to fuck anything up. Jake should have noticed that, but he didn’t. He only saw you with his sister, never noticed you doing anything for his own good, and you turned out to be the douchebag. Which you admit that you are, after everything. You’re not that arrogant to not have noticed.

“Think about it.” Dave says before turning around and leaving. He closes the door of the rooftop behind him and you notice the phone that he left behind on the floor, light blinking as though asking for you to pick it up. You indulge the urge and grab the phone from the floor, flipping through his contacts and easily finding that number you needed when you type in the letter J.

You’re depending on impulsive force when you press the call button and the phone rings in your ear, repetitive and irritating.

 _“Hello? Dave?”_ He picks up after three seconds.

“It’s me,” you say. Hopefully, your poker face won’t crack now even with the anxiety scratching at your throat.

“My brother kept bitching about us finally talking. Think it’s okay to meet up at The Place?”

 

================

 

_“Should we do it?”_

_“_ Must _we? Is it a custom that is wholly unbreakable?”_

_“Well,” Lalonde slurs with a glass of wine in hand, “it’s my house, so I guess the rules are totally up and functioning here. Rule is you gotta kiss everyone you get under the mistletoe with.”_

_“Isn’t that a bit…ineffective? Impractical?” Jane suggests with a furrowed brow, “We’re the only people here to step under it.”_

_“Exactly. Not gonna hurt much to put a little smack there. We’re all friends ‘nyway. You men should stop wussing out.”_

_“Well, the two of you aren’t exactly under the mistletoe.” You supply with an amused grin, “I am.”_

_“With me,” Bro adds. “We’ll only do it under the Unbreakable Vow that the two of you will let us see you doing the same after."_

_“Yeah, sure, deal done.” Lalonde agrees with a wide (and completely inebriated) grin. “Now smooch, guys.”_

_“It’s worrying how you’re so eager for this,” You say with a laugh. You turn to Bro, pausing for a moment, before tipping forward to place a kiss on his nose. Bro scrunches said nose up at the sudden peck but he doesn’t say anything more, although the ladies (a.k.a. Lalonde) are quite eager to make up for his silence._ _  
_

_“That wasn’t a kiss!” Lalonde exclaims with an accusatory point of her manicured finger at Bro’s face. “That was- that was-”_

_“A peck on the nose,” Jane answers with a smile. “That’s still a kiss, technically speaking.”_

_“Nooooo, girl, that is not how you do it under mistletoe.” Lalonde sighs dramatically with a hand to her forehead, “You guys ruin everything, honestly.”_

_Bro shrugs, removing his hands from his pockets to press them against both of your cheeks. You squeak at the sudden touch, looking up at Bro in confusion with a little bit of embarrassment. Bro quirks a smirk at you before saying,_

_“Pucker up, milady.”_

_It’s the only warning you get before you feel his lips on yours, rough and calloused and totally awkward, until he pries open your mouth with his mouth and suddenly you can feel his tongue slipping into your mouth and that is quite unsanitary but nothing feels logical right now when he tilts his head to the side some more to press his lips closer. You, horrifyingly so, admit that you emit a whimper when he licks up your tongue and pulls away to press a suspiciously sweet peck on your lips. God, you didn’t think he’d actually do that._

_“Good enough?” Bro says as he tugs you close, his arm around your shoulder as he turns to face the two other people in the room. Jane looks gobsmacked and flushed at the same time, obviously not expecting what had just transpired. Lalonde is all grins now, the flush of alcohol still a-bloom on her face as she gives you and your bro a thumbs-up._ _  
_

_“Oh, totally. That was marvelous. Perfect.”_

 

====================

 

“Hey,” you say with a wave of your hand. Jake walks toward in his own sheepish pace, appearing both nervous and awkward when he finally stops in front of you to shuffle his feet. The Place is actually a hide-out you’d established with Jake ever since you were little, a small place the two of you had for your own whenever you felt like running away for a while. It’s actually a hidden portion of the park and only the gardener around there knows about it, but you didn’t really mind then. He was a nice man, and he still is. You’re pretty sure the two of you are gonna bump into him some time later.

You find that you don’t feel as much anger against him now. It’s like that portion of anger in your heart short-circuited and got exhausted after all those years. You can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but you suppose you’ll just have to go with the flow to see if it leads to something.

“Hey,” Jake says. You’re about to say something to break the tension, something like a lame joke, but then he clenches his eyes shut and suddenly blubbers out, “I’m sorry, I am so so sorry for what I did and I know that you hate me and I really wish to god that you didn’t because you’re my best bro and I’m sorry that I really suck at apologizing and god, I’d grovel on the ground if I had to I am honestly and truthfully sorry, I swear to god I can understand if you don’t want to forgive me but if there’s anything I can do to make you stop hating me then I’ll do it I-”

“ _Whoa,_ whoa there, chill out,” you raise your hands up to stop him from his continuous rambling. “You’re lucky I understand Jakespeak.”

He chokes out a laugh, a sheepish grin on his face as he wrings his fingers. He never lost that nervous habit, did he. “Y-yeah, I guess so,” he mumbles. “I’m just…”

“I know. Dave told me.” You slide your hands back in your pockets with ease, observing him under the dark tint of your shades. “He forgave you, then?”

“Yeah. He did.” He ducks his head down before straightening up and looking directly at you. You’re thinking that, if he weren’t so dark-skinned, he might be flushing red right now. “I didn’t exactly think he’d come to you about this.”

“Neither did I, honestly.” You shrug. “And, pardon my uncouthness, I’m hungry.” Jake raises an eyebrow with a small smile at the notion, a bit confused as to what you mean. You say, “Mind accompanying me to the nearest café?”

“Oh. Oh! Certainly, that would be lovely.” He nods in eager agreement. You feel a little twinge in your chest that Jake can still manage to be so…child-like. You’d missed that.

You walk forward and swiftly take a jump over the hedge standing behind Jake, giving him a halfway teasing smirk along the way when you look at him still on the other side. “Come on, then.”

He laughs and succumbs to the urge, quickly following after your example and adding in a little flip for effect before landing beside you. He cocks a grin at you. “Lead the way, my good man.”

 

========================

 

_“Christ, Jake. If we die, I am going to haunt you forever and you will regret ever putting me up to this.”_

_“Jeez, man, it’s just a rollercoaster.”_

_“We are going to fucking die.”_ _  
_

_“Oh sheesh, you coward. Come on, it’s our turn already!” You laugh as you pull him along to get on the ride. It’s large and you’ve heard that it goes forward_ and _backward, so that must be fun! You just need to convince your bro to see that, somehow._

_You buckle yourself in and Bro does the same with composed hands. You suppose he doesn’t really look as nervous as he says he is._

_“Want me to hold your hand?” You tease at him, holding out your right hand to him with your left hand clutching on the safety belts._

_You grin widely when he does clasp your hand in his, and you notice how cold his hands are. Huh, he wasn’t joking about being scared. “I’m going to fucking kill you after this, English.”_

_You laugh. “We’ll see about that, Strider.”_ _  
_

_Needless to say, Bro Strider enjoyed that ride immensely and was extremely disappointed when it was over. He insisted on riding it again. Five times._

_==================_

_  
_

“Instead of asking why you did that to my ‘precious little brother’,” you start off as you sip on your Frappuccino, “I’m just going to ask you something else instead.”

“What would that question be?” Jake mumbles under a mouthful of croissant. You stifle the urge to roll your eyes.

“Is my brother insane or do you honestly harbor more than platonic feelings for me?”

Jake coughs on his new round of croissant and you pat him on the back. “Wh-” he manages to clear his throat with a big sip of completely diabetic coffee, “what?”

“You’re not deaf, Jake. I think you heard that quite well.”

“Well, _yes_ , but,” he sputters, “why are you suddenly asking me that?”

“Because I’m reevaluating if you deserve to be my best bro again, and in doing so, you must keep no secrets in regard to your feelings about me.”

“Oh.” Jake blinks, the frown on his face changing gradually into a hesitant smile. “Um. Well. Yes. The latter part of that question is true.”

“Care to clear that statement for me? Because I’m a little blurry on what more than platonic means.” You raise a brow in challenge at him.

“ _Must_ I? Can’t we just pretend that it doesn’t exist for a while?”

“Like we did before? That went wonderfully in the past, didn’t it.” You say blandly. Jake blanches at the reminder and starts spinning his straw around his cup repeatedly. “If we’re going to start over, we might as well make everything thorough.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Jake mumbles before taking a nibble at the remaining half of his croissant. “I, well, it’s not more than platonic as it is me thinking that I’d like to spend a good entirety of my life with you in a manner that is more intimate than we’ve gotten used to.”

“Give me something to work with, here. What exactly have you been daydreaming about doing with me?”

Jake shoots you a helpless look. _Please don’t make me do this._

You urge him on, ignoring his puppy dog eyes. “Well?”

“You’re insufferable, Strider.” Jake murmurs. You shrug. “I think about kissing you sometimes.”

“And?"

“I want to hold your hand in public and sleep with you in a non-perverse way and wake up to your face in the morning and then cook breakfast with you and do other homey things of sorts?”

You let the grin grown on your face without stopping it. Jake looks absolutely pained/embarrassed at the expression on your face, and you chuckle. “Charming. Well, that interview’s over.” You scratch at your cheek when you finally finish your frap.

“Did I pass?” Jake plays along with a curious purse of his lips. You sigh.

“Nope. You failed.” You say bluntly.

Jake blinks, chewing at his lip. “I-”

“You passed in something else, though. Care to take that job instead?”

“What?”

“You failed the best friend test, so now I’m offering you a partnership instead.” You say. Jake blinks again in confusion so you add with a roll of your eyes, “In other words, want to be my boyfriend, dimwit?”

“What. _What?_ Strider, you cannot be serious.” Jake stares at you with widened eyes like you’ve gone off your rocker, which you probably already have with all the impulses you’re playing along with. Welp. “Are you certain you’re feeling well?”

“I’m not really sure. I haven’t had my best bro reining me in for eight years, so I guess that fucked with my mind some.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“I missed your sorry ass and I don’t really get what the fuck I’m saying either.” You rub at your temple like you usually do when you’re pressed for finding an answer to something, “I’m tired of being a complete douchebag, I guess.”

Jake smiles, a sincerely happy one that makes you feel like you finally did something _right_ for once, and says, “I missed you too, Strider. But would it be really possible for you to stop being a complete douchebag?”

“Half a douchebag. I can do that.”

Jake laughs. “Of course. I think I’ll help you with that one.”

You smirk at him. “What kind of partner would you be if you didn’t?”

 

====================

 

_“She’s a bitch, stop blubbering about it.”_

_“I was in love with her-”_

_“No you’re fucking not.” Bro hisses as he shoves another shot glass of vodka at you. “You don’t love her. You_ can’t _love her. She doesn’t deserve you.”_

_You laugh brokenly before chugging down the alcohol. Your eyes are still blurry and you start to wonder if it’s actually raining on your face. (You don’t even know why you’d think that when you know that you have a roof on your head.) “It doesn’t matter, she-”_

_“Get over it, dumbass.” Bro swallows down a shot of vodka before refilling both of your glasses. “She was a fucking pygmy in the sea. There are a lot of other sharks out there who fancy a romp dance with you, I’m sure. Get the fuck over it and stop being so depressed.”_

_“You’re just pissed that I’m being such a depressed tool, bollocks to it all. There’s no one else with enough tolerance for the stupid shite that you always get up to.”_

_“That’s exactly it. I miss my best friend and I don’t want him moping around like this."_

_You laugh again. It’s hoarser this time, harder to keep the tears (wait, tears?) at bay. “Fuck, Strider. Bloody fucking shit.”_

_You hiccup when he tugs you to him, your sobs increasing in volume as you bury your face in his shirt. He ignores the wet mess that you create on his clothes in favor of patting your hair down, effectively soothing you for a moment. “I know, man. I know. She’s a tool and you don’t deserve her shit.”_

_“Y-yeah. Yeah, that’s right.” You agree, trying to convince yourself. Bro nods determinedly as he holds you in his arms, unknowingly rocking both of you back and forth on the wooden floor of his living room. “I-” you hiccup, “I deserve someone better.”_

_“That’s it.” Bro murmurs. You’re barely in your right mind when you look up at him and he tilts his head forward and you tilt your head in the same way to try and mimic him and_

_You’re suddenly kissing him and it’s nice, it’s warm, and he’s kissing you back and oh, oh. That’s…that feels comforting._ _  
_

_You admit that it hurts more than you can explain when you find out a week after that that he’s already courting your own sister._

_=====================_

_  
_

You’re walking back with him to the park when you, as you’d predicted, bump into the gardener then and now of the local park. He smiles, wrinkles forming around his grinning lips as he acknowledges you both. “My, is it actually you? Jake? Dirk?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long time, gramps.”

He grins, showing off some of his artificial teeth. You crack a smile back as Jake responds with a full-blown grin. “Aw, gramps, you’re still the gardener here? That’s great! It’s been so long since I’d last seen you, how have you been?”

“Oh, this old man’s doing great. My kids have kids now, so it’s already official how old I am.” He gives out a hearty laugh that you’d have loved to hear from your own grandfather, had you actually had the chance to meet him.  “It’s refreshing to see you two together again, though! I can still remember the two of you playing ‘round here and getting in heaps of trouble.”

“And you’d always be the helpful stranger who’d hide us away until mom and dad finally blew off the steam from their flaming anger.” You supply. Jake laughs at the reminder of exactly how adventurous the two of you had been together.

“Yes, those were the days,” he sighs wistfully while staring up at the sky. “From what I’d observed when you were both still youngsters, the two of you were inseparable. Has that changed?” He turns back to the two of you with a curious smile.

You and Jake share a look. “We’ve experienced some turbulence in our relationship, but we’re fixing it up right now,” Jake answers with a smile. You smirk in amusement at the choice of words without exactly denying it. The old man just laughs, the skin around his eyes crinkling with his laughter.

“That’s good to hear, lads. Not a lot of people nowadays know what it’s like to be in love anymore.”

You cock an eyebrow at the sudden statement at the same time that Jake does. “Pardon?” Jake asks with a bemused smile.

“The two of you are lovers, isn’t that right?” He asks without really needing an answer. He grins again. “So many years have passed and you’re still together. I think that’s enough proof that some right still exists in the world.”

You don’t bother to correct him anymore that the two of you only got together recently, that you were both separated for more years than you’d like to count, or that you don’t even know if it’s love yet. (Though that last one’s not exactly that hard to answer anymore. You’ve had your fair share of being scared, and you’re over it.)

“Yeah,” you agree with a side-long glance to Jake. He blinks at you in surprise before smiling, his brows furrowed in a way that tells you how amused and happy he is with this.  

“You’re right.”

 

================

 

_“You’re pulling at my ankle again.”_

_“No. I told you, I did it with her.”_

_“Well if that’s the case, why do you look like someone just killed your dog?” You ask with your stare still firmly placed on your best bro’s face. He’s frowning, clenching and unclenching his fists like he wants to do something but he doesn’t know what._

“ _I don’t have a dog._ ” _He replies with a blank stare._

_“That’s not the point. Did something happen? Did she say anything to put you off? Was she horrible?”_

_“No, it wasn’t horrible. In fact, it was great for a first time. Pretty sure it wasn’t hers, though.” Bro groans and buries his face in his hands. You pat him on the back as some sort of solace, and he accepts it gratefully. “It felt physically satisfying. I had an orgasm and everything.”_

_“But you’re not…emotionally fulfilled?”_

_“That makes me sound like a fairy, but yeah. Close enough. I’m pathetic.”_

_You wrap your arm around his shoulder, shaking him just a bit to stop him from wallowing again. “Come off it, Strider. She may not be the right one for you, then. What did you do when you found out, though?”_

_“I didn’t do anything. She just broke up with me.”_

_“She did not.”_

_“She so did.”_

_“That bitch!” You hold up a comb with one hand on your hip, your lower lip jutted out as you glare at the wall in determination. “I am so going to find her house and TP it.”_

_“Mind if I join you on that one? I really can’t give a fuck about detention anymore either.” Bro laughs tiredly, and you find that your heart aches just a bit because of it._ _  
_

_“Of course, Mr. Strider. I hadn’t expected any less from you.” You grin encouragingly at him._

 

===============

 

Nine months in a relationship, and your brother is already telling you off with, “you might as well live together from the number of Jake’s visits.” You start pondering if that’s a good idea, which it should be since that’d make it easier to pay the rent in half. Maybe you should ask him to move in after breakfast. Jake grins when he comes back to the table with two bowls of chocolate porridge and two glasses of orange juice, and you’re suddenly hit with the domesticity of it all. It probably wouldn’t even make a difference if you _did_ start living together, would it? _No, definitely not,_ you think to yourself as you take a spoonful of porridge in your mouth.

Right after breakfast finds you sprawled on your bed, naked, with an equally naked Jake English straddling your hips. You know you really shouldn’t entertain shit like this so early in the morning as well as the fact that Jake needs to be not high on sex when he gets to work later, but it’s really hard to think straight when there’s a hand on your crotch that is really good at making you get hard.

Ahh, fuck it.

You grunt when you flip Jake over onto his back until you’re the one straddling him. He grins up at you like he totally planned for you to do that, the little shit, until you wipe that grin away with one grind of your hips down into his.

You both groan.

“Fuck,” he groans into your shoulder as you do another grinding motion. You grin crookedly, burying your nose into his hair and just smelling him. Musky, strong, and tugging at your loins because fuck, he totally just used your shampoo this morning. “Need you,” he murmurs, completely wrecked and _wanting_ and god, that should not turn you on as much.

“Nn,” you grunt back articulately as you reach a hand down to wrap around both of your erections. Jake groans and you bow your head down to kiss him, swallowing down all of his groans and grunts into silence because you honestly cannot take any more arousal from him and his stupidly sexy mouth.

“You need to stop doing this every morning,” you murmur between kisses. Jake makes to answer but you interrupt it with a hard tug of your hand, at which he groans instead. You kiss his temple before ducking down to taste the expanse of skin on his neck with small nips here and there.

“No,” Jake murmurs in defiance, hips slowly rocking forward with every motion of your hand. “I like knowing that I turn you on this much.”

“Manipulative bastard,” you half-whisper half-moan into his ear, and he shudders. “You know how much I fucking want you. You don’t have to keep rubbing it in."

Jake groans at the blatant admission, his hands gripping at your arms as he tilts his head back to give you more room. “I-I can’t help it,” he chokes on a laugh that transitions into a weak moan when you swipe your thumb against the head of his cock, “I have a lot of repressed needs, I hope you understand.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss into his ear. He groans in reply.

“I wish you would,” he murmurs into your hair as you rake your teeth against his shoulder. “I’ve been missing out, Mr. Strider. I’d like to know what it’s like to have you inside me.”

“Shit,” you groan into his neck with an abrupt pump of your fist. Jake groans as well, though he’s not as loud as you were. You retaliate by biting into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and he actually has the audacity to _moan_ because of it. “Are you a fucking masochist, Jake?”

“No,” he manages to rasp out huskily as you lick at the bruise you’re certain to leave behind. “I just like knowing that I’m yours.”

Well that fucking does it. You crane your head up to kiss him again, effectively silencing all loud groans from either of your mouths as you come to orgasm. You barely stifle the shudder trying to claw at your spine whilst Jake just lies there, his nails digging into your skin with his mouth wide open into a silent cry until he finally settles down from the high and you watch him, utterly fascinated with how he looks whenever he reaches his climax because of _you_.

“You’re going to kill me someday, English. The murder weapon is your bodily charm. Shit, I should call 911 before you try any more of your kinky shit on me.” You mumble as you move to lie beside him. 

He just grins lazily at you, his fingers tracing the contour of your jaw as he murmurs, “But what a way to die, hm?”

 

============

 

_“You lost, kid?”_

_“I’m not,” you murmur with round eyes squinting at the figure in front of you. If you hadn’t tripped and lost your glasses in all of those shrubs, you wouldn’t be having such a hard time! “Just lost my glasses.”_

_“You mean these,” the blurry figure tells you before shoving a pair of glasses under your nose. You go cross-eyed at the sudden lack of distance between his hand and your face, but you revert to your normal stare when you put your glasses back on._

_“Thanks,” you say cheerfully. The blurry figure from before turns out to be some blond-haired amber-eyed kid who looks the same age as you, which makes you wonder, “You look the same age as me. Why’d you call me a kid?”_

_“I don’t know, isn’t that what you usually call people whose names you don’t know?”_

_You tilt your head at him in question as the same time he does. You grin. “Well, my name’s Jake. Jake English. You are?”_

_He smiles at you a tad awkwardly and you wonder if he smiles often. You’ll just have to find out for yourself, then. “Dirk Strider.” He says with a voice forced to be too loud as some sort of defense. You grin in amusement at him before taking his hand in yours. He jolts at the touch but doesn’t pull away, instead looking at you like you’ve grown another head on your shoulder._

_“I think we’ll get along nicely,” you say with a laugh, and you’re pleased to find that he joins in on your laughing soon enough._


End file.
